It was just before dawn when Sajibro walked along the edges of the Shadow Kingdom, tracing what he had been told was the capital.
But what he found was nothing but ruins—crumbling walls, charred doors, and people whose faces could no longer tell the difference between silence and slavery.
The city was called Areth. Once, it had been the very heart of the shadows… before another heart corrupted it.
Sajibro stopped in a square where the dust was like ashes. He looked around and muttered,
"This is not what I imagined… these are not the shadows I desired."
An old man approached him, hunched over with fear clouding his eyes, and asked in a hoarse voice:
"Did you come from outside the city? Don't linger here… the king's eyes are everywhere."
Sajibro replied calmly, almost as if asking himself,
"And where is this king?"
The old man whispered back,
"In the Black Palace. He is never seen, only heard. He takes everything, and gives nothing but shadows… shadows that smother the light."
Sajibro walked on until he saw the palace. It stood upon a hill, wrapped in pure darkness, as if stolen from a dream and twisted into a nightmare.
It wasn't merely a palace… it was an open grave, devouring all who dared approach.
When he returned to Raizen and Musayuki, he sat in silence for a long time. Then, without looking at them, he said,
"The king… he is not the guardian of shadows. He is their killer."
Musayuki asked,
"Do you intend to kill him?"
Sajibro answered, the shadows thickening around his eyes,
"No… I want to rip him out from the roots. And return the shadows to the ones who deserve them."
From that night, the first plan was born. Not of armies, nor alliances… but of awakening.
Sajibro was no longer just a dreamer—he was a man with a cause.
He gathered names, studied maps, learned of the people, and began retraining himself—no longer as a maker of weapons, but as a maker of destiny.
Every stone in the city, every broken soldier, every starving child… became a piece of the vision to come.
Raizen began slipping among the guards, tracking their movements.
Musayuki studied the advisors, memorizing the language of the regime.
And Leifa… turned herself into a dagger in every secret gathering.
As for Sajibro…
he was drawing a plan in his mind, one that relied not only on the sword, but on an idea:
that shadows… must not rule through fear.
He knew the confrontation was inevitable.
But inside, he was not afraid.
Because for the first time, he understood: the true king…
is the one who dreams, not the one who terrifies.
End of Chapter Fifty-Eight.